Reinstatement (Fall and Rise of the Condor 5)
by jublke
Summary: Following implant surgery and a rocky convalescence, Jason's finally been reinstated to the G-Force team. But is he ready for combat? Fifth in the Fall and Rise of the Condor series. My thanks to chickeebaybee for drawing a picture for this one. :)
1. Chapter 1

This is a work of fan-fiction. _Battle of the Planets_ is the property of Sandy Frank by way of Tatsunoko. No copyright infringement is intended.

My thanks to Becky Rock, my husband, and cathrl for beta-reading, to Cerm for giving me the idea for a new mecha, and to chickeebaybee for drawing an illustration for me. I also appreciate the suggestions provided by several members of Bird Scramble. Any remaining errors are mine.

This story is set roughly six months after _Strike at Spectra_. In my _Fall and Rise of the Condor_ series, it follows _Rebuilding_ and _Rock Bottom_ , and directly follows _Revelations_.

* * *

The Chief didn't say anything as Mark summarized the high points of Jason's memo, a detailed summary of the status of the Condor's health post-implant surgery. Although Jason had recently passed a Level G fitness test required of all high security personnel, he had obviously struggled through the acrobatics portion of the exam, a previous strength of the Condor. The Chief had been beyond furious that Jason, once again, was withholding critical information about his health from the team. After a lengthy conversation the previous night, Mark no longer had reservations about Jason's ability to rejoin G-Force. _But the Chief might need some convincing_ , thought Mark.

As Mark recited the litany of Jason's previously undisclosed medical problems, he studied the older man's face. At first, the Chief had seemed surprised by the depth of Jason's honesty. But now, as the meeting stretched far longer than anticipated, Chief Anderson simply sat back in his chair, regarding Jason with a stern expression. Jason, sitting backwards in one of the Chief's hard-backed wooden desk chairs, hadn't moved. His arms were laced through the back lattice, crossed and knotted. His downcast eyes could have bored a hole through the floor.

When Mark came to Jason's grueling experience with Dr. Glock's detransmutation ray – and the Chief's apparent lack of empathy – the older man closed his eyes and rested his chin on steepled fingers. He stayed that way until Mark recounted the time when Jason had tricked an intern into giving him codeine for his headaches. Then the Chief's expression hardened from one of sympathy into smoldering anger. Mark noticed that he was pressing his lips into an ever thinner line. _Still_ , Mark thought, _to his credit, he hasn't said anything._

Finally, after covering Jason's surgery, ankle injury, and recently successful Level G fitness exam, Mark drew to a close. "It is my professional opinion that Jason is fit to return to active duty as the G-2. He is fully capable of commanding the team in my absence and providing back-up support to Tiny on the Phoenix. While his field skills are admittedly rusty and his acrobatic ability is limited at this time …"

Mark glanced at Jason, who was still staring at the floor, before continuing. "… I fully believe that his contribution to the team will more than compensate for any weaknesses he may have. Jason has been honest and forthcoming about his limitations. I no longer have any reservations that he's holding something back. I believe that our team will be able to work around any field situations that may arise. I have recommended, and Jason has agreed, to continue his acrobatic field training under Keyop's guidance."

Mark cast a surreptitious glance at Jason. This time, his second rewarded him with a smile.

"Jason has requested that the medical trainer redesign his fitness program to focus mainly on improving his sense of balance rather than on strengthening his ankle, given that his injury has healed. I concur with this decision."

Mark gave Jason a long look until his second shrugged at him to continue.

"In addition, Jason has requested – and will require prior to reinstatement – a Level E Type One diagnostic before returning to active duty." Then Mark sat back in the hard wooden chair and awaited the fallout.

The Chief leaned forward so suddenly that his plush office chair squeaked in protest. The older man swallowed and blinked several times in rapid succession, as if to process the information more quickly.

"Jason? What's going on?" The Chief's voice, Mark noticed, was carefully neutral.

Jason's body resembled a knot, with both arms and legs crossed. He cleared his throat before answering. "What Mark said. I need an eye exam. A thorough one."

The Chief didn't comment. He stood up and paced around the small room, finally coming to rest before a large picture window. He appeared to be studying a school of fish swimming outside. "Your implant should be fully calibrated by now."

Mark and Jason traded glances.

"Are you sure, Chief?" Mark ventured. "Jason's only been back in birdstyle a few times since surgery. Maybe …"

"Of course I'm sure, Mark!" the Chief thundered. He turned on his heel. "What do you think I've been doing all this time?"

As if suddenly recognizing his lack of composure, the Chief threw up a hand in apology. Then he stalked across the room and sank back into his chair, defeated.

 _His frustration's easy to read_ , Mark thought. _But the fear … he's trying to hide the fear._

Mark's stomach churned as he thought about Jason's unresolved visual and balance problems. _This isn't how it's supposed to turn out. I don't want to hear this. I have to go in for the same surgery, and soon. A surgery that may not even be successful._ As his vision began to swim, Mark put his palm to his head and shut his eyes.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Mark looked up to meet Jason's eyes. Jason's expression, simultaneously strong and sympathetic, surprised him. His second had pushed his chair closer to Mark's, as if to soften the blow.

"Jason," the Chief began. Jason turned away from Mark to meet the man's eyes. "I want you to know that I realize how hard this was for you. I recognize that you went above what was required to ensure the success of Mark's surgery. I appreciate your candor." Although Jason's jaw was clenched, he managed a nod.

"I only wish that I had realized the full extent of your problems prior to your own surgery. But now is not the time." The Chief cleared his throat. "We've both made mistakes here. Jason, I'm sorry."

Jason nodded. "Me, too," he said softly.

The Chief stood and started to pace again. "I thought that we had completed a thorough surgical repair of your implant. I've been concerned about your ongoing balance problems, although I suspect that you will adapt over time. But if you're still having vision loss, I'm more than worried. We have to accept that you may require follow-up surgery."

Jason swallowed. Mark looked at him and gestured toward the Chief with a tip of his head, encouraging his second to talk.

"I don't think it's that bad," Jason spoke slowly. "I'm not having vision loss or problems like before. My visual field is consistent." He looked toward the window at the Chief. "It's just consistently blurry."

The Chief stopped pacing and regarded him. "And with the implant?"

"Better. Not that I've had much opportunity to use it." Jason gave the Chief a hard look. Mark caught Jason's underlying message: _I'm not abusing the implant, if that's what you're asking._

The Chief also seemed to understand Jason's meaning. He nodded.

Jason shrugged. "But …" He shook his head and looked away again. "I can't quite bring things into focus."

"Sounds like refraction error." The Chief sighed in obvious relief. "Thank God. You've got a known history of myopia, but it's always been slight. In the past, your implant more than compensated for it. I didn't realize that you'd started having problems. Ideally, your implant would fully correct for any visual defects you might have. But addressing visual acuity using the implant alone can be difficult. It's a known weakness in the design."

Mark thought of the many hours that he had spent with the implant technicians, trying to tweak away his occasional need for reading glasses. He nodded at Jason.

The Chief continued. "I'll schedule your diagnostic, Jason. Unless we find something unexpected, I'll be able to clear you for active duty after the exam. But I need you to know, at this time available surgical corrections for vision aren't compatible with transmutation and space travel. Contact lenses are also out. There's a risk – although slight – of a lens fusing to your eye during fiery Phoenix mode. We should be able to build your prescription into your visor. But if you need glasses, you'll be required to wear them as part of your standard uniform."

"I can handle that." Jason cast a sly smile at Mark, who could feel his cheeks turning pink. Jason was well aware of Mark's desire to avoid a similar requirement.

"Good. Then I concur with your reinstatement as G-2. Jason, I suggest that you meet with your team as soon as possible to brief them on Mark's status." He gave Jason a stern look. "I trust that you will brief them on your own status as well."

Jason nodded. "Yes, sir."

"In addition, Mark has informed me that some of your teammates have had difficulty working with Darien, particularly Keyop." The Chief cleared his throat. "Apparently, Darien is having trouble accepting that Keyop outranks him. No one as young as Keyop would be allowed in the Red Ranger chain of command. Keyop has been reprimanded twice for his hostile treatment of Darien. I recognize that your relationship with our friend from Riga may also be strained, given that he took your place on the team in your absence. However, I trust that you will do whatever is necessary to pull your team together."

Jason nodded again.

The Chief took a deep breath and looked over the tops of his lenses at Jason. "That said, I want you to take it easy out there for the first few missions. We nearly lost you once …" He swallowed, hard, before continuing. "And I don't care to go through that again. Let Tiny and Darien pull their weight during close combat. Both are more than qualified and they could use the field experience." Chief Anderson gave Jason a hard look. "Understood?"

Jason met the Chief's gaze. "Yes."

"Good. Because I am counting on you to command G-Force during Mark's recovery." He smiled at Jason. "You are dismissed."

Jason returned the smile and stood up to stretch.

"Mark," the Chief continued, "You are hereby on medical leave. I want you to confined to the station. Please return to your quarters and try to get some rest. You look exhausted. I've got your medical team on standby. We'll start the prep for your surgery tomorrow morning."

"All right." It came out more weakly than he expected, and Mark let Jason help him to his feet.

They were nearly out the door, Jason with a gentle hand on Mark's shoulder, when the Chief called out Jason's name. Both men turned.

"Thank you," the Chief said simply.


	2. Chapter 2

"I look ridiculous." Jason scowled at his reflection in the small mirror in the far corner of the optical shop.

Princess stifled a smile. "It would help if you weren't frowning." She handed him another pair. "Here. Try these."

Jason put on the aviator-style frames for a fraction of a second before whipping them off. "Absolutely not." He sighed, handed the glasses back to Princess, and fixed her with a weary look. "Are we done yet?"

Princess looked at the mirrored wrap-around racing glasses in her lap. "I don't think you can wear these every day," she commented. A little more firmly, she added, "You're going to have to pick out something else to show the Chief."

Jason sighed. It had been two days since he and Mark had met with Chief Anderson, and the enormity of the current situation was sinking in. Mark was still awaiting surgery; the Japanese physician who had led the repair of Jason's implant had run into a problem with his visa and was delayed until tomorrow.

The team had taken the news of Mark's illness relatively well, considering. Both Tiny and Princess had admitted that they had suspected Mark was holding something back and appeared relieved to know what was wrong. Darien had calmly accepted that his new assignment would continue indefinitely. Only Keyop had looked absolutely stricken at the news.

"Mark ... too?" he had squeaked out, before promptly bursting into tears.

Darien had attempted to console Keyop but was quickly met with a sharp retort. Jason remembered Tiny pulling Darien aside and Princess throwing her arms around Keyop.

 _This team is a mess_ , he concluded. _And I have to lead them. Joy._

Then there was practice. _Damn._

Jason tried not to think about it, but the memories crept in anyway. His first practice since reinstatement had been a disaster. As training drills wore on, it became apparent to everyone that Jason was struggling: falling on simple landings, missing targets with his shuriken, and losing to his acrobatic combat partners, all of whom he suspected were holding back anyway. His former teammates were at least polite enough to ignore him as he floundered. They knew enough to avoid eye contact if he missed a maneuver. But the longer he had struggled, the more openly Darien had gaped at him, until finally, Jason had snapped.

"What're you gawking at?" Jason had turned on Darien abruptly.

"Nothing." Darien had responded far too quickly and averted his eyes.

"Don't let it happen again." Jason's voice had held a lightly veiled threat.

"Yes, sir."

Jason remembered trying to fix the Falcon with a traditional Condor stare, but it had been hard. He had been tired, his ankle still hurt, and - far, far, worse - his pride was through the floor.

Something about the Falcon's retreating posture, though, had caught his attention. The man's shoulders were slumped and his sweaty auburn curls were pasted to his head, revealing a premature bald spot. His dark wings trailed behind his yellow bodysuit, giving him the appearance of a waterlogged insect.

 _He really does look like a giant bumblebee. No wonder he complained to the Chief about his uniform._ That thought led Jason to wonder if there was anything else that Mark had missed about the newcomer.

"Falcon!"

Darien had turned. Jason remembered briefly catching anger in the man's eyes before Darien could replace it with indifference.

"That doesn't mean I couldn't use a good sparring partner."

Darien had smiled at him for the first time that day. _One good thing in a sea of disaster._

Jason tried not to recall the trouncing that followed, but his muscles twitched at the memory. _At least I put up a good fight. The Chief was right; he's more than field-ready. But I have to live with the fact that I got my ass kicked by a Red Ranger._

 _And now this._

Princess handed him another pair of frames. "You've got to pick something for your design. The Chief needs a style to work from. You don't want to wear glasses like the Chief's, do you?"

Jason pictured himself in the gravity-defying spectacles of his mentor and managed a smile. "I guess not." He frowned at his owl-like reflection. "Are you sure I can't just wear mirrored sunglasses every day?"

Princess didn't respond; she simply handed him another pair. Jason put them on and tried to imagine wearing glasses, all day, every day. Every briefing, every meeting. Just like his bracelet, same as his number two shirt. Just a normal part of everyday life.

Surprisingly, the eye exam itself had actually been less humbling than he'd feared, especially when compared with practice. The Chief and Center Neptune's new Medical Director had conducted a very thorough examination, dilating his pupils until they looked like hockey pucks and having him look through various sorts of instruments that resembled Spectran torture devices.

It was finally confirmed that - yes, as suspected - his myopia had increased from mild to moderate, but the implant was compensating for a considerable amount of it. The functional vision of his right eye was nearly normal; his left eye was much weaker. More vexing to Center Neptune's design staff was the slight amount of astigmatism correction that would have to be built into his visor.

The Chief had looked visibly relieved at the end of Jason's eye exam. "This is great news, Jason. These measurements confirm that not only is your implant not malfunctioning, it's working reasonably well. Without the implant, your vision would be far worse."

Jason had given the Chief a wary look. _And this is the good news?_ he remembered thinking.

"You will be required to wear glasses at all times." The Chief had repeated his earlier lecture for effect. "Your glasses will become part of your regulation uniform, same as your clothes or your wristband. However ..."

And here the Chief's expression had softened into a smile. "I'd like you to do some shopping for me. I'm assuming that you'll need at least two pairs of glasses: one for racing and one for every day wear. Find me a couple of pairs of frames to use as design templates. If you have to wear glasses, you might as well find something that you're comfortable in."

Recalling these words, Jason stared at his reflection in the mirror. He realized that he'd been wearing these frames for the past few minutes and hadn't torn off the glasses in protest.

Princess smiled at him. "I like those."

Jason grimaced at her and shrugged. "I don't hate them." He handed her the frames and she held them in her lap along with the racing glasses.

"Then I guess we're done," Princess said.

Jason picked up his faded denim jacket and turned away from her to put it on. "Thanks for coming with me." The sleeve of the jacket muffled his voice.

Princess gave him another warm smile as soon as he turned around. "Any time, Jason. It was my pleasure." She laughed lightly and punched him playfully on the arm. "You can always talk me into going shopping."


	3. Chapter 3

The knocking beat an unfamiliar rhythm on her door. Princess opened her eyes, noted the time, and drew a silken housecoat over her nightgown. _What on earth?_

As she slipped into her house shoes, she tried to calm her breathing. _It's not about Mark, it's not about Mark._ She repeated the mantra under her breath as she shuffled toward the door. _But why else would someone come to my door in the middle of the night?_

Mark was barely out of surgery, a surgery that had taken far longer than anyone had expected. The team had opted to hang around the Center Neptune dorms, to be on hand, just in case. In case of what, no one dared say.

Princess had taken over for Keyop earlier in the evening to sit with Mark in Center Neptune's infirmary. It was too early to tell if Mark's implant surgery had been successful, but early indications were promising. Mark had remained heavily sedated during her visit, but she thought he seemed to appreciate her presence.

Jason had appeared in the doorway of Mark's hospital room around midnight, ordering her to bed and taking the night shift for himself. He looked like he hadn't slept much, if at all. Princess wanted to argue with him, but she bit her tongue. Jason had weathered so much lately that she didn't want to add insubordination to his list of problems.

 _Jason?_

But it wasn't Jason knocking hesitantly at her door, it was Tiny. "I know it's late, but can we talk?" The big man stood in the doorway, his posture miserable and defeated, a sorrowful expression on his face.

Princess couldn't remember the last time that Tiny had come to her room in the middle of the night. It had to have been when they were kids. "Sure. Do you want to go down to the ready room? I can make us some tea." She moved toward the hall.

"No ... uh ... I'd rather this stay between us, if you know what I mean." Tiny cast a furtive glance down the hall and ran his fingers through his hair, making it appear even spikier.

Princess nodded and gestured toward her most comfortable chair. "Come on in then."

As soon as the door was closed, Tiny plunked down on the chair with a gusty sigh and closed his eyes. Princess sat near him on the bed and placed a hand on his knee. Her eyes searched Tiny's face, taking in his pasty complexion, the clenched jaw, the bags under his eyes. "It's all right, Tiny. You can talk to me."

Her words had the desired effect. Tiny opened his red-rimmed eyes and cast a bleak look in her direction. "I can't go through this again."

Princess knew what he was talking about, but she asked him anyway. "What?

"This. The waiting, not knowing how things are gonna turn out." Tiny stood up and folded his arms. "I can't go see him."

"Why not?"

He turned toward her, eyes glistening. "That could be any one of us in there, Princess. You or I could be next." His voice was raw. "It tears me up to think about Mark. I can barely handle Jason. I've never had to worry about either of them before, but now, I'm worried all the time."

Princess stretched out her long legs and sighed. "I know what you mean."

"Princess, I've been thinking about it. Jason's not ready to take on Zoltar. What's it gonna be like with you and me in the field with Keyop and Darien? Darien and me aren't Jason and Mark. We're not gonna be able to work even half as fast. Jason's gonna get mad sitting on the Phoenix. He's not me. He hates waiting. He's gonna try and bust in and cover us like he used to." Tiny's voice cracked and he gave her a pained look. "I don't think he can."

"We have to do what we can to support him," she said quietly. "We have to back Jason, Tiny. It's our job. He needs us."

Tiny's jaw was set. "He's not ready."

Princess raised her voice ever so slightly. "It doesn't matter what you think. He's been reinstated and he outranks us."

"Do you think he's ready?"

Princess pursed her lips. "Yes. I do."

Tiny looked at her with skepticism. "How can you say that? You've seen him at practice! He's a mess."

Princess glared back at him. "His target shots are still better than yours."

Tiny took the barb without comment. "He's hurting, Princess. He can't land anything harder than a back flip. His ankle's still screwed up, I don't care what anyone says. He's been limping after our sparring matches."

"What more do you want from him, Tiny? He passed the fitness exam. He stays through all our practices even though he's embarrassed. He's been as honest as he can be about how he's doing. Jason's really trying. He deserves our support. What more do you want from him?"

Tiny swallowed and sat down. "I want him back the way he was."

Princess turned and looked away. I do, too.

"I want the old Jason back, the one who knew everything. The smart-assed guy who always bossed me around. Who could take care of himself. Who could take care of me." Tiny looked down at his hands. "When I think about Mark going through this, too ..." Tiny's voice rolled to a stop and he dropped his head.

Princess clasped her hands over his. Tiny lifted his head and looked at her earnestly. "We have to take care of Jason out there, Princess. He's gonna hit the field running way before he's ready. Those Spectrans are gonna clobber him. They're out for blood."

"I know, Tiny," she said. She patted his arm. "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

A sprinkle of colored lights woke him up. Jason started at first, glanced at his wrist and tried to remember where he was. He quickly took in the dimly lit room, complete with a window view of the ocean and the fish that were drawn to the artificial lights surrounding Center Neptune.

 _It's like having your own fish tank_ , he mused. _Or being in one._

He shrugged the irrelevant thought away. As he headed out the door, he cast a fleeting glance at the sleeping figure in the hospital bed. Jason was surprised to see Mark looking back at him. In a raspy voice, his commander said, "Give 'em hell."

Jason grinned. He was halfway out the door before he remembered. Rushing back to the lumpy guest chair, he retrieved his newly issued, ISO-approved glasses from the nightstand, pushed them on with a shove, and sprinted down to the docking bay. He met Princess in the final hallway before the big hangar.

"Any idea what this is about?" she said, hurrying to keep up with him.

Jason shook his head as he ran. "Must be urgent. Chief didn't give any details, just the code to get airborne."

Keyop and Darien soon matched pace. Keyop looked at Jason and did a double-take.

"Nice ... glasses," he teased.

Jason punched him on the arm, hard. "Drop it, Squirt."

Darien quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Jason sighed internally.

"Where's Tiny?" he asked.

"Right here," Tiny was huffing, pulling up the rear, as they sprinted as a group into the hangar.

 _There she is._ Jason slowed his pace and stared. _The Phoenix._

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed this warship, her powerful engines waiting to rumble, her blue wings poised to scrape the sky. Jason caught a glimpse of the missile storage silo beneath and he couldn't help but grin. _Bird missiles. All mine._

"Welcome back," Princess smiled at him. "We've missed you."

He returned the smile briefly, then asked, "Everybody ready?" Four heads nodded in unison, followed by five arms sweeping in an arc.

"Transmute!"

Four silver-tinged shimmering halos and one vibrant red one enveloped the team in a rainbow of light. Jason felt the exhilaration of the hunt, the thrill of battle, rising inside him for the first time in months. It was invigorating. Powerful. He rose to the call. He could rise above anything.

The feeling didn't last long. Once he boarded the ship, everything seemed different. The bridge looked brighter and more crisply defined through his new visor. Jason adjusted the shading and tipped his head from side to side to gauge the effect. He noticed a slight distortion on the angle, most likely an artifact of his recently added prescription. _This is going to take some getting used to._

Darien was already making himself at home at Jason's station. Watching him, Jason could feel his stomach clench. _He looks far too comfortable back there._ Jason forced himself to take a deep breath. _But I shouldn't move him just yet. Let's see how he performs in combat._

Ignoring Darien, Jason strode to Mark's customary seat next to Tiny and called for the rest of the team to complete their checks. As expected, the first three came quickly. But as time wore on, Jason grew impatient.

"G-6? What's the hold up?"

"Just following procedure," Darien responded. "I need to test the solar coupling next."

Jason sat on his hands. _Is he always this slow? I could set us up blindfolded in half the time._ He thought through the steps in the procedure manual. "Tiny, move us out."

"Wait! I'm not finished!" Darien's voice raised in pitch. "I haven't even checked the ..."

"You're finished," Jason said. "That's an order, G-6. We don't have time to reconfigure the matrix. This isn't a drill.

Darien made an unhappy snort and sat back down. "If you didn't want me to ..."

"If I wanted your opinion, G-6, I'd ask for it," Jason snapped. He opened the communication link with Center Neptune control. "What's up, Chief?"

"Zoltar's latest weapon of mass destruction has touched down in Crystal City. I'm sorry for the late briefing. Somehow, this warship slipped by the outer perimeters of our security undetected. Our ground forces are trying to hold it back, but this latest mecha is powerful."

The Chief relayed several images of a large mechanical frog hopping down the city streets, smashing everything in its path. A large whip-like cable projected from its mouth like a tongue, wrapping around skyscrapers and upending them. Fractured steel girders and mounds of concrete lay in its wake.

"Do you know what its objective is?" Princess asked.

Chief Anderson's face looked grim on the monitor. "We think it's headed toward the chemical storage tank center near the harbor. Since Zoltar wasn't able to capture Crystal City's gem mine in the latest round of attacks, we believe he wants to extract revenge by destroying the harbor. I don't have to remind you that some of these above ground tanks can explode if disturbed in the presence of an ignition source. We've evacuated the tank farm, but this is a hazardous mission. I want you to be careful." The Chief spoke to the entire team, but Jason could feel Chief Anderson's eyes on him, boring the warning into his skull. He got the message.

"Will do," Jason responded.

"Good luck, Team." Chief Anderson signed off.

"Princess, check the database for the tank farm," Jason ordered. "We need to know what they're storing there. Make sure to note which tanks are full and which ones are empty or near-empty."

"Check." Her fingers flew over the keyboard.

" ... could have done that ..." Darien mumbled in the background.

Jason whipped around in the chair. "One more outburst like that and I'll turn this ship around and dump you at Center Neptune."

Darien's eyes were saucers. "Sorry?"

"I don't know what you've been getting away with around here and frankly, I don't care. I'm in charge here. You follow my orders or I'll have your commission revoked. You understand me?"

Darien's eyes hardened like flint. "Yes, sir."

"Now, your primary expertise is chemical weapons, isn't it?"

Darien nodded.

"Get the HazMat manual handy. Whatever materials Princess gives you, look them up and cross-check their reactivity. We need to know what we're up against."

Darien looked marginally pacified. "Yes, sir."

Crystal City was just a twinkle of lights, but Jason could see the plumes of smoke rising in the distance. "We've got our mecha. Dead ahead."

"Got it," said Tiny.

"Keyop, pull up a map of the area. Any nearby targets?"

The Swallow was silent for a moment, studying the viewscreen. "Airport."

"Princess, got a lock on our chemicals yet?"

"Butane, acetone, sulfuric acid, VM&P naphtha, gasoline ..."

Darien's eyes went wide. "Those are all explosion risks. We need to evacuate the area."

"Radius, G-6?" Jason asked.

Darien shook his head. "Miles."

Jason clicked open the link with Center Neptune. When the Chief's face filled the viewscreen, he didn't bother with protocol. "Evacuate Crystal City."

"7-Zark-7's already on it, but I'll relay the information. Team, we think it's headed for Crystal City airport. Unfortunately, their sensors are jammed out there. We'll keep trying to get the message through. Be careful. That mecha's started taking down planes."

"Will do, Chief. Thanks."

They were flying directly toward the giant frog now, close enough to see sunlight glinting off its shiny back and powerful hind legs. The mechanical frog hopped forward, crushing a corner of the airport terminal. Scores of people fled for their lives, scattering in all directions like ants after the demise of an anthill. The giant beast leapt into the air, uncoiling a long steely tongue and wrapping it around an incoming jet. The plane exploded into flaming shards of steel.

Tiny looked at Jason. "This is a bad idea."

"Confirmed, G-5. We need to lure it away from the airport. We can't shoot at it when we're this close to the tank farm." Jason chewed his lip.

"What if we back around and land the Phoenix?" Princess suggested. "Keyop, Darien and I can draw it out and Tiny can shoot it from the G-1."

Tiny looked decidedly uneasy at this suggestion.

"Taking a plane directly against that mecha is suicide," Jason agreed. "Ground vehicles for now. Let's lure that thing out of the city before we shoot it. Tiny and I will wait and then follow in the Phoenix."

At Tiny's wide-eyed expression, Jason clarified. "At a distance. I'll take it down once it's out of range of the city."

Once the Phoenix had touched down, the three outgoing team members left in a hurry. Jason tried not to think about Darien driving the G-2, but it was hard.

 _I should be out there now but the Chief would have my head._ Jason sighed. _Let's see how he's been handling my car._

As Jason watched the bank of computer monitors on the bridge, he had to bite back several retorts. _Darien may be a crack pilot, but he sure could use some driving lessons._

Tiny stretched out in his chair. "I like this, nice easy waiting ..."

"We've got a problem." Jason frowned at the monitors. "The frog isn't following them."

"What?" Tiny looked at the center screen where Jason was pointing.

"See there? It's going after another plane. It's like that thing only hunts things if they're in the air."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Tiny looked at Jason with concern.

"Do you see any other way?" Jason snapped. "There isn't time to pick the others up. We need to go after it now before that mecha takes down another jet."

"You want me to fly the Phoenix toward that thing while you shoot it?" Tiny looked miserable.

"No, are you crazy? I want you to lure the frog away in the G-1. I'll fly the Phoenix and shoot it."

The look Tiny gave him was one of sheer disbelief.

"Quit shaking your head at me. I gave you an order." Jason glared at him.

"You can't do that, Jason. You're not ..."

Jason's voice was steel. "I believe I gave you an order, G-5."

"All right. But once I get us airborne, you just hold her steady while I take the G-1 out."

"Agreed."

Tiny piloted the big ship into a textbook liftoff and leveled her off at an easy cruising altitude before handing over the controls. "Just hold this lever steady. I'll let you know when you can release the locking clamp." Tiny ran toward the elevator.

Jason fought the urge to yell at Tiny for insubordination on his way out. _But it's not like I don't know how he feels. It isn't any easier for Tiny to hand over the controls to the Phoenix than it is for me to watch Darien drive the G-2._

Jason heard the sounds of grunting through his wrist com.

"All right, I'm in," the big pilot said. "Let me get 'er started." Jason could hear the high-pitched whine as the G-1's engine came to life. "Okay, let 'er rip."

Jason hit the button to release the locking clamp with one hand while holding the controls of the Phoenix steady with the other. _Piece of cake._

"G-Force ground crew, pull out," Jason ordered through the wrist com. "I repeat, pull out. Help the UN forces with the evacuation of the city. G-5 and I are going in."

Jason heard several cries of protest and clicked off his bracelet in frustration. _This is ridiculous_ , he thought. _I give an order, they're supposed to follow the order._

The turbulence came without warning. Jason swore as the Phoenix veered wildly off-course. _I've got to get this under control; I've got to keep track of Tiny._ Jason stared at the bank of instruments in front of him, trying to remember which was which. _I just did this on simulator, how hard can it be?_ He punched several buttons and felt the plane respond. Badly. Jason swore. He took a deep breath, tried to steady the queasiness in his stomach, and flicked his bracelet back on.

"G-5, this is G-2. I've hit a pocket of turbulence. Suggestions?"

"Pull up, G-2. The air's better up here. Let me know when you're stable."

Jason pulled back, hard, and soon found himself climbing into calmer air. Before long, he was nearly level with the G-1.

"You all right?" Tiny asked him through the wrist com.

"Yeah," Jason answered. He hoped he sounded better than he felt.

"You sure you wanna do this? 'Cause we can try it another way." Tiny's voice was gentle.

"I'm fine, G-5. You ready?"

"Okay, I'm going in," Tiny responded. "Cover me."

"Will do," Jason answered.

The big frog took the bait immediately, hopping toward the G-1 with what appeared to be unbridled enthusiasm. Tiny flew at a right angle toward the ocean, leading the frog away from the city and, more importantly, away from the chemical tank farm.

"You're doing great, G-5. Any problems?"

"No. So far, so ..." Tiny broke off. "G-2, we got visitors, dead ahead."

Jason looked in the direction Tiny had indicated. Three Spectran warplanes were closing in on Mark's plane.

"I see them, Tiny. You dodge them, I'll pick them off for you."

Jason swung the Phoenix at an angle and pressed the button to set up the bird missiles. At the last minute, he decided to set up the firing grid as well. _This is no time to be careless._ Jason locked in on the closest target and waited for the time to strike.

"Pull right, G-5," he ordered, and fired the first missile.

The Spectran plane exploded in a ball of flame and smashed into the second fighter. The flaming wreckage cascaded to the ground below. Unfortunately, the falling flames attracted the attention of the frog mecha. It hopped toward the Phoenix, tongue at the ready.

"G-2, he's coming after you!" Tiny screamed through bracelet.

"I see it, G-5. You take down that other fighter. I'll go after the frog."

Jason looked at the frog mecha's long tongue and rapidly weighed his options. _I can't shoot it. We're still too close to the tank farm._

He flew the Phoenix directly toward the frog's mouth, then jerked the plane in a hard turn, banking away from its body. As expected, the frog's mechanical tongue snaked after the Phoenix. Jason flew toward the ocean, but the mechanical tongue was closing in on him fast. At the last second, he dipped the left wing until the plane was nearly vertical and began to fly in an arc around the frog's back.

"Hurry up, G-2!" That was Princess.

Jason floored the engine and kept the Phoenix spinning in an arc around the gigantic frog, like a satellite in orbit. The mechanical tongue trailed after him, just out of reach. Around and around the frog he flew, spiraling down from its massive head toward its powerful feet. Then Jason jerked the lever back up and the Phoenix abruptly took off toward the ocean. The big frog took the bait and tried to hop after the war ship.

The resounding crash was gratifying, even if the turbulent wake made it difficult to control the Phoenix. Jason looked back to confirm that the frog mecha had indeed been stopped cold, bound by its own tongue. Unable to hop forward, it had fallen over, crashing into shards of steel and gray-green twisted scrap. Scores of green-clad goons were exiting the massive ship, a sure sign that the self-destruct sequence had been initiated.

"Team, are we accounted for? I think she's gonna blow!" Jason spoke rapidly into his wristband. He was relieved when his team sounded off.

"You've got to get away from the tank farm now, G-2." That was Darien, tension in his voice unmistakable, even through the wrist com. "You're still too close."

"Which direction?"

"Head east and hurry!" Darien's voice rose in pitch.

The first explosion, the detonation of the frog mecha, rocked the Phoenix. The second explosion sent the ship spiraling out of control. An enormous above ground storage tank shot aloft like a rocket, leaving a fireball in its wake. Jason gripped the controls of the Phoenix and fought desperately to keep the ship aloft.

"Pull up, pull up!" That was Tiny.

Jason obeyed quickly, but the plane was flopping wildly in the crosswinds. Jason struggled to get the big ship under control. This was nothing like the simulator. The plane reacted more abruptly than he had anticipated. Random drops in altitude led to random waves of nausea. He tried to slow his movements, but it was hard.

"All right, you're doing better," Tiny finally said. "Just get her level," he advised.

"Suggestions?"

"Hold her steady. You're all over the place. Get your tail up." Tiny rattled off a short list of things to try.

Jason applied each of Tiny's recommendations in succession. When he ran out of options, he focused on controlling his breathing.

"You all right, G-2? Hang in there." Princess.

Finally, the big ship seemed to settle down and Jason breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm all right," he said, exhaustion laced through every word.

"Good, because I'm comin' in. Maintain bearing."

Jason was surprised to see the G-1 flying in formation right behind him. _How did I miss that? How long has Tiny been sitting out there?_ Now that he was listening for it, Jason could hear the whine of the smaller engine over the deep rumble of the Phoenix.

"Okay, I'm in. Set the locking clamp."

Jason did as he was told. When Tiny entered the flight deck, Jason fixed him with a grateful stare. _I have never been so happy to see you in my entire life._

"You all right?" Tiny hurried over to Jason and gestured at him to take off his helmet. Jason did as Tiny suggested. The big man stripped off one glove. He took over the controls for the Phoenix with his gloved hand and checked Jason's temperature and pulse with the other. Jason slid over to Mark's chair, closed his eyes, and rested his head on the console.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Tiny sat down at the helm. "Why don't you go sit down in sick bay? It's quieter back there."

Jason lifted his head to look at his pilot. "I'm all right, Tiny."

"No, you're not. Look at you. You're all clammy and you can't even stand up."

Jason sighed. _I guess I deserve that._ "I'm all right. I'm just dizzy."

Tiny looked relieved. "Of course! I should have thought of that. That was some pretty fancy flying you tried out there." Catching Jason's expression, Tiny smiled and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Anyone would be dizzy after a flight like that, Jason."

Jason's face finally relaxed. "Maybe I'll take you up on your suggestion." He stood, grabbed his helmet, and slowly picked his way back toward sick bay.

After Tiny had collected the others, Jason overheard some excited discussion about the mission, especially when Keyop yelled "boom" to describe the tank explosion. He tried to ignore the murmured part of the conversation, which he suspected focused on a certain G-2 lying prone in the back.

Soon after, Princess appeared in the doorway of sick bay and peered into the dimly lit room. "How're you feeling?"

"Better. I'd appreciate it if you keep the lights off, though."

"Headache?"

Jason nodded, then remembered that she probably couldn't see him very well in the dark and answered, "Yes. How'd you know?"

"Hmm. You've been flying in circles around a giant frog. That's enough to give anyone a headache." They shared a laugh.

When their laughter faded, Princess spoke. "You did well out there today," she said. "Tiny can't believe how well you handled the Phoenix. It makes me dizzy just thinking about it. I'm so proud of you."

There was a time when such words would have meant little to Jason, but now, having fought so hard to come back to the team, they were golden.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"We're back to code green, so you can detransmute now. Why don't you try to get some rest?"

"I think I'll do that."

He must have slept some, because the next thing he knew, Tiny was docking the Phoenix at Center Neptune. Jason stepped back onto the flight deck, watching as the sea level dropped slowly outside in the big hangar.

 _The last time I was aboard this ship, I thought I'd never make it back._

He was dizzy now, as he had been then, but that was where the similarity with the strike at Spectra ended. Jason touched his temple, surprised to find that he had put on his new glasses without thinking, and smiled.

 _I can see. My headache's gone and my implant works. I may not be where I once was, but things are definitely different. This time, things are getting better._

Jason looked around the flight deck and saw a ring of faces looking back at him expectantly.

"Hey, you're up!" Keyop ran over and gave him a hug. "You ... okay?"

Jason smiled at Keyop. "Yeah. I am. I'm gonna be just fine."

* * *

When I was 9 years old and saw "Strike at Spectra" for the first time, I was convinced that Jason needed glasses. Later, as an adult, I realized that his problems were likely more complicated than that. However, I just couldn't resist giving him glasses in this story arc.

The chemical tank farm in this story is loosely based on a real facility. I was involved with investigating the potential environmental impact caused by the explosion and other releases from the plant.


End file.
